


Rules Are Made To Be Broken

by hharrytomlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: !!!!!, 16-Year-Old Harry, 30-Year-Old Louis, Celibacy, Cheating, M/M, Underage Kissing, harry's legal, if thats even really a thing, it's short, louis refuses to have sex with harry, not really underage because harry's legal, sort of, sort of again, theres literally nothing to tag here, vague things happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hharrytomlinson/pseuds/hharrytomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn't want to obey Louis' defined rules and Louis makes it so there's no other way.</p><p>Or the one where Louis doesn't want to do anything sexual with Harry outside of kissing until he turns eighteen and Harry can't really wait much longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules Are Made To Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This is short and sort of my way to write a major age gap but in a different light. So...yeah.

Harry wants to cry. It’s times like this when he hates, absolutely _despises_ the age gap between him and Louis and Louis’ stupid, stupid rules. Rules that make it hard for the pair to do anything sexual and result in lots of soar wrists once Louis’ gone home for the night.

The worst part is that Harry’s sixteen and he knows he’s legal, he does, and so does Louis, but he still refuses to do anything with Harry because he’s not eighteen yet. Louis’ thirty, is the problem, and refuses to be nearly double Harry’s age and sticking a cock up his arse at the same time.

Louis’ thirty and runs a large company that Harry just so happens to intern at for school. Louis’ thirty and spends every Saturday night in Harry’s room, making out on his bed like he’s seventeen, while Harry’s parents are on date night. Louis’ thirty and Harry’s sixteen and the worst part of it all is that Harry’s not allowed to take his cock out of his trousers and he’s not allowed to touch Louis’ either, no matter how badly he wants to suck his bloody _boyfriend_ off.

Louis has always had rules, is the thing, so it shouldn’t have come as much to a surprise to Harry when he turned sixteen and Louis finally agreed to take him out on a date. A date with no alcohol at a cute restaurant that had Harry smiling for days.

No sex was…reasonable, sort of, but not being able to touch Louis was a bit ridiculous.

“M’thirty.” Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips, trying to get Harry to see his side of things. “You’ve never even had sex, darling, no need for you to not want to take things slow.”

But there is. All of Harry’s friends have had sex, even religious Zayn and innocent Liam, Niall who farts more than he breathes, and god, _everyone’s_ had sex. Except for Harry, because his boyfriend doesn’t seem to see the need for it with Harry being so young.

Despite what Louis’ saying, Harry’s desperate for some friction against his cock and something more than soft kisses and breathes lingering over his face and neck.

Naturally, Harry moves away to take off his shirt, and when he realizes that Louis’ following his lead, he begins to remove his jeans as well, which is perfectly allowed by Louis’ standards.

It’s when Harry grabs himself out of his boxers with Louis’ lips cherishing his shoulder that Louis stops everything he’s doing and gets off of Harry, finding his pants and shirt somewhere on the floor and quickly tugging them on. Harry’s left with his cock in his hand and mostly naked in bed, watching Louis attempt to leave his room, and quickly calling for him to stop, to come back.

“No, Harry,” Louis shakes his head. He’s mad. “We all can’t just _do_ things because we’re horny and you know that. You don’t care and neither do I now.”

And Harry feels like shit. So much so, that he can’t even bring himself to wank once Louis’ gone, despite how hard he is, and he even showers to wash off Louis’ kisses in order to punish himself. Rarely does Harry attempt to break any of Louis’ rules, and when he does, Louis always catches him before he has the chance to get completely naked.

Harry knows that Louis’ beating himself over not stopping him, is the worst part, and so Harry beats himself up for not stopping _himself_ , knowing that he’d ruined the only night that week that he could actually spend more than ten minutes at a time with Louis.

Louis calls the next day and tells Harry that they need a break with a soft voice that says, “it’s just not going to work out, love,” in the sweetest way possible. Harry’s not sure what’s worse; the way his heart suddenly hurts, or how _okay_ Louis sounds, like he isn’t about to cry at all.

But Harry is. Harry doesn’t even respond, for that matter, and hangs up to cry into his pillow because he’s only sixteen and that’s really all that’s expected of him. He doesn’t show up to his internship the next day and is completely about to just never come again until his guidance counsellor calls him down and asks him where he’d been, and that his boss – _Louis_ – had called, saying that he hadn’t shown up.

Harry looks like shit, and he knows that that’s why his counsellor lets him go home early with promises to tell his boss that he’ll be in the following day.

It’s more of a surprise when Harry actually shows up at the internship, than when Louis asks to speak with him in his office. By then, Harry’s moved on from his sobbing phase to just being bitter and angry with Louis, arms crossed over his chest while he seats himself across from his boss.

Louis, who goes on about how he has an important client coming the following week, continues to tell Harry that he’s needed to have all of their files organized by then. Whatever Louis’ saying doesn’t really make it across the desk to Harry, who noticeably has a blank face and isn’t paying attention.

“Harry, are you getting this?” Louis frowns and closes his laptop, reaching into his drawer to get out a pad of paper to write it all down for him instead. “If this gets messed up we won’t be able to—“

“Zayn would fuck me.” Harry blurts, interrupting Louis with the first word he’s said to him since their phone call. Harry knows how infuriated Louis gets at the mention of Zayn, the man who works the office two floors down, yet still works under Louis, and smiles at Harry in the elevator.

It’s a lot more than that, because he’d not so subtly implied that they should hang out, like on a _date_ , more than a few times before. But Harry hadn’t taken any of it very seriously, too busy pinning after Louis, and once they were together he’d mentioned it as a joke. Louis didn’t take it as such.

“Harry,” Louis sighs, “it’s just not going to work out. You can’t just use Zayn as a way to get back at me.” Louis is being reasonable, and a part of Harry _knows_ this, but he’s too upset to accept it.

“I don’t care.” Harry murmurs, before glancing at the wall clock. “It’s five, I’m allowed to go.”

On his way out, Louis slips Harry the list of what he needed to do, gently placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry quickly flinches away from him. In the elevator, Harry asks Zayn if he wants to go out sometime, and returns back to work the following week with hickeys lining his neck and bruises on his hips. He’d had sex.

Or at least, that’s what Harry tells Louis with a smirk when he not so accidentally spills coffee all over himself in his boss’s office and has to take off his shirt as to not burn his body. Harry’s chest is covered in various hickeys and the most suspicious portion are his love handles, the ones Louis used to love to hold and munch all over.

Louis gapes at Harry from behind his desk, and barely hears Harry explain with a faint smile that he has a spare t-shirt in his desk, and he’ll be back in a second to give Louis all the files he’d asked for. When Louis realizes that Harry’s heading towards the door shirtless, he hurries out of his chair and slams the door the second it’s out of its place, making sure it’s shut closed.

“I’ll get it, Harry.” Louis clenches and leaves, returning with Harry’s shirt, but not before demanding that Harry never sees Zayn again.

“As your boss,” Louis explains, “I refuse to sign the waver to have two of my employees fucking.” He seats himself behind his desk, the decision final while Harry’s shoulders seem to fall a bit, the t-shirt in his hands hitting the ground.

“That’s not fair!” He exclaims. “I’m only an intern. I don’t even work here.” And Harry’s right. Louis knows that he’s right, too, but as his boss and a senior of fourteen years, he also knows that he’s got an indescribable power over Harry.

“That doesn’t matter, Harry.” Louis barely tries to hide how much he doesn’t care if Harry’s unhappy with the situation, with a sigh that says he can’t do anything about it, even though him and Harry both know that he can.

Harry wants to cry, and this time because Louis’ making everything so impossible for him. He’s not even allowed to sleep with someone who actually wants him, and Louis clearly couldn’t care less anymore.

On his way out the door, Harry’s in tears with a t-shirt lazily being pulled over his head. With a strong, spiteful declaration of his hate towards Louis, Harry hopes that it hurts Louis at least half as much as Louis has hurt him, and slams the door behind himself.

With another sigh, this one a lot less fake and all too real, Louis rests his head against his desk and closes his eyes.

The thing is, Louis’ always known that getting involved with Harry would be disastrous. So much so, that he’d even told Harry about how awful it was going to turn out. And now he has to watch it all turn to shit, because Harry wasn’t satisfied with his rules and needed more, more which Louis didn’t want to offer him because he’s only sixteen. He’s too young, too young for Louis and definitely too young for Zayn, even though Zayn’s two years younger than Louis, because Louis’ sure Zayn’s not going to be as fragile with Harry as he is – was.

Zayn doesn’t deserve Harry, anyway, and he’s definitely not going to take care of him when he’s having a bad day or needs to come. Louis doesn’t want to think about how maybe that’s why Harry and him didn’t work out – with Harry needing to be treated differently and whatnot. It’s not a fun thought, so Louis doesn’t linger over it.

What he does do is sneak into Harry’s bedroom late the next Saturday and kiss his eyelids until they’re fluttering awake and Harry’s confusedly sitting up. He smells like cologne – _men’s_ cologne – and it doesn’t take a genius to know what he’d been up to early on in the night.

Harry’s about to speak, but finds himself silence by lips covering his and if he knows anything at all, it’s how Louis’ lips taste.

Louis misses this. He misses being able to kiss Harry and hold him, even if neither of them ever really got anything sex-wise in return. It was nice enough to be content, and he knows that he’s never really considered if _Harry_ were content before. He wants to, though.

 

“Missed you.” Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips and ignores all thoughts telling him that Harry could easily be already taken by Zayn. He pretends he has a chance. “M’sorry if I upset you.”

Before Harry has an actual chance to think about what he’s going to say and how he really wants to tell Louis off, Louis moves his hips downwards and onto Harry’s. He’s above the covers, unlike Harry, and he also knows that Harry sleeps terribly naked. And their cocks are pressed together, especially since Louis’ only in trackies, and it’s so distracting that Harry splutters over what he wants to say next.

“I don—ah – please, Lou.” He ends up not even acknowledging what Louis had said at all, or saying what he’d originally wanted to. There’s no hope doing so with Louis nibbling on his jaw and fingers rubbing his already bruised love handles.

“Your seventeenth is coming up soon.” Louis moves his mouth to Harry’s ear, ignoring the boy’s plea to be touched, and instead only continuing to apply the same amount of pressure onto him. “I think I’ll allow you to touch yourself in front of me then, hm?” Brushing Harry’s hair out of his eyes, Louis kisses the top of his head. “Seventeen and a half and we’ll be doing all sorts of things with our hands and mouths.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath – a whimper, it seems, and flutters his eyes closed at the idea of being able to do so much with Louis. He feels Louis’ mouth moving down from his forehead to his cheek, trailing around the underside of his chin.

“Blowjobs,” Louis hums, moving the duvet back to reveal Harry’s bare chest, yet leaving it around the waist, “rim jobs,” he says before his mouth sucks sharply around Harry’s nipple, tweaking the other one with his fingers. Harry barely catches Louis whispering to his chest, “I’ll be fisting you by eighteen, and then soon enough you won’t be able to walk.”

Louis makes eighteen sound so close, that Harry thinks he’s going to cry of excitement, if he doesn’t cry from a hard on first.

“Cherish the time you’ve got without my cock in you, baby,” Louis laughs lightly, “because by the time you’re completely legal m’never gonna want to pull out.”

Louis knows that the responsible and best thing to do would be to stay away from Harry, but doing so was killing him. It hurt so much, that to prove to Harry that he wants to be with him, Louis presses his hand against Harry’s cock through the duvet and wanks him, moving his hand up and down once, twice, until Harry’s murmuring about how he’s about to come and begging Louis to never stop.

Louis doesn’t stop. Instead, he buries his head into Harry’s shoulder and kisses his pale skin incessantly until he can feel the come leaking through Harry’s sheets and Harry’s body relaxes against his mattress.

As if it isn’t clear enough that Louis’ manipulating Harry through an orgasm, he whispers into his ear and asks, “are we okay, darling?” even though he knows Harry’s barely recovered. His mind’s still fuzzy and he’s moving his arms to hold Louis, always being so needy to hold or be held after coming.

Harry hums and nuzzles his face into Louis’ shoulder, murmuring a quiet apology.

“I didn’t—never slept with Zayn.” Harry whispers, and Louis already knows, but he’s not about to tell Harry that. “Wanted you to be jealous, and, um, love me and stuff.”

But Louis freezes, because he isn’t expecting the word love to fall out of Harry’s mouth. And Harry’s too naïve to realize what he’s just gone up and said with not much care, so Louis decides that he kind of likes that, that Harry’s so comfortable with the topic.

“I do love you, Harry.” If it were anyone else, Louis knows he wouldn’t have said so openly. But this is _Harry. His Harry._ “More than anything.”

Harry giggles softly against Louis’ shoulder, before asking how old he has to be for them to take a bath together, because he’s in desperate need of one and Louis looks like he could use some relaxation.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://hharrytomlinson.tumblr.com)


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